Home Is Where the Heart Is (5 page)

Liz excused herself from the dinner table and headed to bed, thinking all the while of how to tell Kyra about the dark entities that had invaded their sleepy little town. The time would come soon enough. Dylan and the boys at Southern Gentlemen’s would make sure no harm came to her. John, lord rest his soul, hadn’t wanted to approach them about the seedy dealings that were taking place around town. He had worried for Liz’s safety too much to take that step. Now Liz found herself in that same situation, worry for Kyra filling her completely. She would have to give Dylan a call.

CHAPTER FOUR

The next morning, Kyra awoke refreshed and ready to face the day. She bounced down the stairs and into the kitchen to find her mother having coffee with none other than Dylan Chambers.

“Good morning, Kyra!” Liz beamed.

“Hey! Good morning, mom,” she replied, stunned by Dylan being at her mother’s house so early. What could he possibly want so early in the day?

“Hi, Kyra,” Dylan said.

“Dylan was just telling me that he is working on your dad’s case,” Liz said.

“Right. We talked about that last night. Remember?” She poured a cup of coffee, glancing at Dylan. “Are you here to update us?”

“Not exactly,” he said. “I was hoping to look through your dad’s office and see if that leads anywhere.”

Kyra glanced at Dylan, only to find he was staring at her. She thoroughly enjoyed the attention but knew it could go nowhere. Gosh, how she wished he wasn’t married. That would be the only way she could avoid wrestling with the lusty thoughts she was having.

“Dylan offered to help us pack up your dad’s office,” Liz said. “If the person responsible for… well…” She shrugged, her eyes darting around the room as she avoided the obvious. “Anyway, he might find some useful information at the office.”

Liz had known about Kyra’s infatuation with Dylan for years. She was sure he was the reason she hadn’t dated, and the wedding was probably her reason for bailing the way she did. Even now, the way she looked at him spoke volumes about her feelings for him. It was obvious to anyone that stood in the same room as the two of them that her feelings were as strong as ever. Being away for the last five years hadn’t lessened the attraction.

Kyra wanted to ask about Harley but couldn’t bring herself to. It was as if the words were stuck in her throat, choking her. If she wasn’t able to have him to herself then she could at least be civil and kind. After finishing their coffee, she dressed quickly and they headed to the law firm.

Liz suggested they travel together, but Dylan insisted on riding his motorcycle. Part of Kyra wanted to ride with him, to feel the wind whipping through her hair and the rumble of the powerful motor vibrating between her thighs. The best part would be her body pressed against Dylan’s, her arms wrapped around his muscular torso, her hands against his abs. A girl could wish, right?

The law firm was closed. Liz hadn’t spoken to her husband’s business partner, Tom Perry, since the day of John’s passing. He had checked in on her at the hospital, but hadn’t bothered to contact her since. It was strange. She hadn’t thought it odd at the time, but so much was happening that she hadn’t given it much thought until now.

She turned the key, unlocked the door, and everyone slowly made their way into John’s private office. Everything looked as it always had; neat and tidy. John had always believed that organization and cleanliness were important, and his office space reflected that. Knowing that her husband had been alone and in terrible pain in this very building upset her greatly. It made being here so difficult. Her heart ached even more as she looked around his office.

“Everything looks so normal. You can’t even tell that...” Liz couldn’t finish the thought. A cleaning crew with the police department had cleaned the carpeting in his office, washing away all signs of blood. The air was thick with disinfectant, which stung her nose.

Kyra didn’t want to be reminded of the suffering her dad had obviously felt while laying helpless on the floor of his office. She was glad her mom hadn’t had to deal with seeing it or cleaning it herself, although she would have done it if she had to. She was just that kind of woman. Somehow, she could always bounce back from anything. She’d battled breast cancer three years ago and won. The woman was hard as nails. Kyra came from good stock, that was for damn sure. Too bad she didn’t inherit more of her mother’s confidence.

“Liz,” Dylan said, “I’ll start with Mr. Michaels’ desk, if that’s alright.”

“Sure. I’ll just start packing up his personal items. Kyra, would you grab a few boxes from the car, please?” Liz ran her fingers along the frame of a photo of her and her husband on their last wedding anniversary. Tears stung her eyes as she hugged the framed photograph to her bosom.

“Alright,” Kyra said, hugging her mother before heading for the front door. “I’ll be right back.”

When she returned with the boxes, Kyra began helping her mother pack the family pictures her dad had kept displayed around his office. Each one was a memory and she took a second to remember all of the good times they had shared.

Dylan had eased her father’s chair away from the desk, taking a seat as he sorted through the case files laying open on the desk, hoping to get a clue as to who killed Kyra’s dad or something that would put them on the right trail. After a moment, Kyra saw Dylan tense up while reading a file. He had obviously stumbled across something. But what? Not wanting to draw her mother’s attention, she decided to ask Dylan what he saw later.

Seeing his muscles harden made her tingle all over. Kyra found herself daydreaming about Dylan embracing her like he did in her dream the other night. She wanted that badly. If her mother weren’t here, she wouldn’t have been able to contain herself from jumping him like a wildcat. Shaking herself from the naughty thought, she got back to work. She had to keep her mind on track, finding out what happened to her dad was more important than oogling Dylan.

“I’m going to get some fresh air, you two,” Liz said. “This is harder than I thought it would be. I need a minute to... I just need some air.”

“Would you like some company?” Kyra asked

“No, honey. Stay and help Dylan. I’ll just be a few minutes.”

“Okay.”

Before Kyra could say anything more, her mother was gone, leaving her alone with Dylan. Suddenly, she felt hot all over, and she knew he was looking at her again. She could feel his eyes burning over her skin. A chill swept over her, leaving goose bumps in its wake. Kyra found her naughty thoughts exhilarating. She might be a virgin, but she wasn’t a complete prude. With the internet at her fingertips, she had learned plenty about sex and how to pleasure herself… and she wasn’t a stranger to getting herself off. She was still a woman after all, and had needs. She found release in her own way.

Looking up, she noticed Dylan gazing at her from across the room. A scarlet heat filled her pale cheeks, threatening to expose her thoughts. Thank goodness he didn’t know what she was thinking about. Or did he? The way his tongue darted across his lips made her wonder if he could read her mind, see through to her fantasies.

Dylan couldn’t keep his eyes off of Kyra. Every time he looked at her, she was already looking at him, a rosy red hue coloring her cheeks. He wondered what it would be like to kiss her, to hold her in his arms. He wanted to feel the warmth of her pale skin against his, her long lean legs wrapped around his hips. Just now, Kyra was bathed in sunlight from the window, and she looked like a goddess.

The little yellow sundress she was wearing hugged her small breasts. He imagined his hands grazing her taut little nipples, pinching them between his thumb and forefinger until they pebbled beneath his touch. Damn, how he wanted her. He felt his manhood begin to harden at the thought. Shaking the image from his mind, he returned to the stacks of files covering Mr. Michaels’ desk.

If only he could find some shred of a clue as to who had killed Kyra’s dad, then he might stand a chance with her. The only thing that stood out to him in the files her dad had recently been working on was the arresting officers. He knew them, and they weren’t good guys. He knew that for sure from experience. If they were involved, this case could become very difficult. He would pull out all the stops to win Kyra’s heart, and helping her find out what happened to her dad was a damn good start. He couldn’t get over how much she had changed. She was so different now compared to the girl he remembered. Looking at her now, he couldn’t understand how he had made himself stay away from her and why he let age even factor in.

Liz broke the silence several hours later. “Hey, guys, it’s almost lunch time. You’ve been at it a while now. Want to grab a bite to eat at the diner?”

Kyra and Dylan stared at each other with longing, each wanting more than lunch, but not willing to act on it. Neither was willing to speak of the emotions coursing through them.

“Sure,” Kyra said.

Dylan shook his head. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Michaels, but I need to get back to the office. Maybe another time.” His cell phone rang and he fished it out of his pocket, seeing Jake’s name on the screen. “Hey, Jake, what’s up?”

“Hey, boss. The police report is finally in. To be honest, I’m not sure what to make of it. I emailed a copy to you. You should have it now.”

“Okay, hold on and let me take a look at it.” He pulled up his email account and skimmed over the report. Nothing had changed at the precinct since he’d left. Still plenty of shoddy detective work and half-assed reports. “I’m on my way. I should be there in ten minutes.” He looked at Kyra. “We might have a lead, but it’s too soon to tell. I’ll check in with you later.”

“Okay.”

Dylan headed out to his pristine beast of a motorcycle, pulled the black half helmet from the seat and strapped it to his head. As far as motorcycles go, Dylan’s was hot as hell. The black paint job shimmered, the chrome catching every ray of sunshine. The bike looked just as powerful as the man riding it. Kyra didn’t know anything about motorcycles, but she could imagine herself hopping on the back of Dylan’s and taking a long ride with him. She shivered at the thought of her arms wrapped around his muscular center. Nothing would thrill her more than an afternoon alone with him, thundering down the road. She watched him ride away, then turned to follow her mom to the car.

“I guess it’s just you and me,” Liz said

“Yeah,” Kyra said with a small smile as she climbed into the car.

CHAPTER FIVE

The Yellow Rose Diner was open twenty-four hours a day, and it was the best thing about Sizzle. Stepping through the front door was like taking a trip back in time because the style hadn’t changed since the 1950s. It was the most nostalgic place Kyra had ever been. The checkered floors and red barstools at the counters screamed 50s style, along with the old jukebox that still worked and played all the old tunes. Kyra’s favorites were ‘Don’t Be Cruel’ and ‘Hound Dog’ by Elvis. She had listened to them every time she came to the diner with her parents. With a strong sense of nostalgia washing over her, she made her way to the jukebox, popped in a couple quarters, and selected ‘Don’t Be Cruel,’ returning to the table with a smile on her face.

The waitress was setting their plates down as Kyra slid into the booth across from her mom. The place had the best burgers and fries Kyra had ever had. You couldn’t get a good burger in Houston to save your life. Maybe coming home wasn’t so bad.

Thankful, just this once, that Dylan didn’t come with them, Kyra made up for all the missed years and ate the big hamburger in what had to be record time for her. The burgers were just as greasy and delicious as she recalled. She grabbed the last of her French fries, dabbed them in ketchup, and popped them into her mouth before pushing her plate away. She hadn’t realized she’d cleared her plate until she noticed her mother’s shocked expression. She hadn’t really eaten all that much since she arrived and her appetite had snuck up on her. Liz smiled, chuckling.

As Liz and Kyra paid their tab, Kyra realized she hadn’t come prepared for a funeral. When she had packed, she had just assumed that her dad would be okay. She had nothing dressy to wear. “Mom, I… I don’t have a dress to wear to the funeral tomorrow.”

“You can wear one of my dresses, honey. I’m sure I have something that will fit you.”

Kyra nodded, thankful her and her mom were similar in size. She hated not being prepared. Once they arrived home, she followed her mother upstairs to the master bedroom, where they looked through tons of dresses. Liz found a gorgeous black Jennifer Lopez Ponte sheath dress that stopped just above the knee. It was so beautiful and elegant. Sexy, too.

“This one is perfect, Kyra!” Liz beamed.

“Oh! I love it!” Kyra said with a smile. She tried on the dress, knowing that it would fit her perfectly. The smooth fabric kissed her skin as she eased it up her slim body. She noticed the tags hadn’t been removed and wondered where her mother would have worn it.

“It’s a lovely dress. It looks so beautiful on you, honey.” Liz said.

“It’s a gorgeous dress. Where were you going to wear it around here?” Kyra asked.

A tear slipped from her mother’s eye. “Your father and I started having date nights a couple of years ago when his workload began to grow. We needed a night that was just about the two of us. He would take me out for a night on the town. Dinner… and sometimes a movie, too.”

“I didn’t know that,” Kyra said, her voice soft as she realized why her mom had selected this one for her. There would be no date night for this dress.

“Your father was such a romantic,” Liz said, a sad smile on her face. “He even learned to dance so he could whirl me around the dance floor on our anniversary last year. I’ll miss that.”

“I hope I am lucky enough to have a marriage like yours one day,” Kyra said.

“Oh, honey. I’m sure you’ll find Mr. Right. Sometimes it just takes a little time for the right one to find you. Maybe he’s right under your nose and you don’t even realize it.”